No matter how attentive the females were, Yeril had remained distant while neither encouraging nor discouraging their interest. He remained apathetic to the entire experience, as if waiting for something, much to Furis’s irritation.
It was almost amusing, considering that he had attempted to dissuade Yeril from making this journey so close to the Withering Days. He had tried to reassure his brother that there was no need for them to find a mate that winter, that there would be other opportunities to go to the Old Wayfairer Citadel, but Yeril had been determined to find their fourth to complete their family. Their triad was not getting any younger, and the discussion of a mate and rogs had come up season after season with a certain kind of longing among them. Furis was not entirely sure which appealed to his brother more, the idea of having a mate or having rogs of their own.
Furis had never considered it an important enough matter to inquire over. He wanted both with equal desperation, which was what finally persuaded him to agree to their visit, despite the torment of the Ragoru breeding season upon them. Those unfulfilled desires would be all the more torturous if they were unsuccessful in securing a mate. Still, he had been hopeful, given his lead’s enthusiasm, but now he grew suspicious when his brother showed no preference to the females who surrounded them. He encouraged any and all without making any displays to a favored female that might make her feel special.
No wonder the females had long since started drifting away.
Furis shook his head in disbelief and glanced covertly at his triad’s lead. What was the male waiting for? They were no longer the only triad in the tavern once the day stretched into nightfall. Now there were three other triads there, and some of the females who had been eager and attentive earlier wandered away. He shot a glare at his brother as another female left their table. Although there were still many keeping them company, Furis felt a pang of anxiety. At this rate, we will lose them all!
Leaning to the side, he hissed vehemently. “What are you waiting for? They are all leaving!”
Yeril turned his head toward him, slowly lowering his cup of cider, having abandoned the mead after the first taste of the intoxicating substance. Alarm skated through Furis, making his fur tremble as he noted that his lead’s eyes appeared almost glazed as they attempted to focus on him. Yeril shook his head with a snarl, but his head fell forward as if keeping it upright was too much of an effort.
Furis’s brow drew down, and he lifted a hand to flick his triad brother’s ear. The ear twitched with a strange lethargy. Drawing back, he glanced around, noting for the first time the looks directed at them by the other males in the tavern.
It was clear that not everyone was happy at all the attention their triad had received. Several human males stared with undisguised resentment, and one of the triads seated at a table a short distance away was watching them. Furis focused on them, ears tipping in their direction curiously. Apprehension slid over him like water from a half-frozen river in his clan’s territory.
There was nothing but pure aggression in their gaze, not unlike what he had seen before in the eyes of more brutal triads who actually sought to exterminate their competition. The clans dealt with such triads swiftly, but these males were not from his home territory. A shiver ran beneath his fur. The Ragoru of the Great Forest south of the clan lands were known to be solitary, possessing more violent territorial tendencies. These males had clearly been sizing up his triad for some time now and were not pleased with what they saw. Not only that, but they seemed to be sitting completely alone, an air of menace around them no doubt frightening away any female who might’ve been tempted to look in their direction.
Furis shifted in his seat, watching the females lingering around the table. More than half of them were now clustered around Yeril specifically. It hadn’t taken them long to determine that he was the one they would have to work hardest to sway. Now, in his obviously groggy state, they were brushing against him, trying to tempt him as they pressed closer now that he had ceased growling whenever they attempted to touch him. One of the females dug her fingers into the fur on his arm and rubbed up against him with her chest, a happy sigh drifting from her, likely due to what she believed to be favor from the large male.
Yeril swayed heavily between the females on either side of him, making them giggle, and a low whine escaped Furis as he glanced again over at the other triad. Two of the males appeared to be smirking while one wore a faint sneer, his lip curled away from his fangs. Furis’s ears lay back, and another uncomfortable whine eked out as he glanced over at Bero questioningly.
What was going on? His triad brother was likewise frowning, his body tense and stiff. Bero met his eye and shook his head warily.
This was not good.
Swallowing, Furis turned his attention back to their lead, who seemed to be panting in great gulping breaths. Yeril shivered and tipped the cup up as if terribly thirsting, downing the cider in messy gulps that had several females draw away at once.
“Yeril…?” he murmured in concern as he leaned closer, forcing the females to the side.
The sluggish response moments earlier had been worrisome, but this was frightening. Raising his hand again, he gripped the other male’s arm shoulder.
To his horror, Yeril’s body suddenly spasmed and began to cough loudly as if he were choking. The females screamed as they stumbled back. Bero snapped his teeth at them so that they got out of the away, eliciting more frightened shrieks. That was likely the end of their attempt to get a mate, but right now, Furis could not have cared less. His fur rose in panic, and he jumped up from his seat but not quick enough to catch Yeril as his enormous body hit the floor.
All humans within the vicinity scattered as Yeril’s large body twitched on the floor. His mouth foamed as he spasmed, his dark golden eyes rolling up into his head. Furis wrapped all four of his arms around his brother and braced himself to pull the unconscious male up against his side. Bero came up to Yeril’s other side so that their lead’s weight was supported between them. They needed a healer.
Furis looked around anxiously for help only to still when the human who had been seated behind the large counter came forward, wiping his hands on the material wrapped around his waist. Any hope that the male was coming to offer help died when he saw the hard look on the male’s face. Gradually, as he was forced to push his own panic down, he became aware of the whispers all around him.
“Diseased, he must be,” one male muttered to his companions at his side. Several of the females balked and shifted further away.
Furis gaped. Yeril was not diseased. Ragoru rarely had sicknesses among their kind—and certainly nothing like this!
The approaching male stopped a short distance away and thinned his lips, his nearly maneless head catching the glow from the light of the large hearth.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here. It’s upsetting the customers. Take your friend somewhere else until he recovers. You’ll be welcome back then.”
“You do not understand. We need help… We do not know what is wrong with him,” Bero objected before Furis had the opportunity to do so.
“They’re going to steal women and kill us all with their sicknesses!” a man shouted as he stood up aggressively, despite the way he wobbled on his feet.
The male shook his head with a scowl toward the other human before turning his attention again to their triad. Sympathy flashed on his weathered face for an instant before his expression hardened again.